Dr John Smith, DADA Teacher: Ultimate Edition
by Jed Rhodes
Summary: Re-written for the 2009 Specials Year. The Doctor takes the hexed job, and meets Harry Potter... and an old friend.
1. Arrival

**The Face of Boe:** _I have seen so much, perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind, as you are the last of yours, Doctor._

**The Doctor:** _That's why we have to survive, both of us. Don't go._

**The Face of Boe: **_I must, but know this, Time Lord: You are not alone._

**From Gridlock.**

--

The temporal eddies fluctuated. The machine that spent it's life in the vortex read the currents, saw the signs, and pondered the possibilities; it cross referenced these with the disposition of it's owner, and then, finally, made it's decision.

--

The Doctor ran around the TARDIS console, a rather messy collection of chess pieces, junk and snow globes, frantically pressing buttons, pulling levers, and twice using the hammer he kept under the console for when his ship got out of hand, like now. The song _Don't Stop Me Now,_ (the Queen version, because the Doctor, like many Queen fans, thought the idea of covering Queen blasphemy), was playing in the background, and the Doctor knew full well it was a message from the TARDIS herself, because she was funny that way.

We hit upon the crucial point, now; the Doctor wasn't driving the TARDIS to it's destination, he was trying – vainly – to stop it. He knew it was hopeless – the TARDIS wanted to go somewhere, and nothing - not rain, sleet, snow, atomic bomb, end of the world, end of the universe, start of the next - would stop it now; hence the song.

If it wasn't so annoying, he might have grinned. As it was, after a third run with the hammer failed, he resorted to pleading.

"No, no, no, no, no!" he yelled desperately. "Where are we going?! Stop, please! STOOOOOOOP!!"

It was no use, he knew, but he had to try.

After the longest time, (although time was relative in a time machine) the TARDIS slowed down over its selected destination, and slowly materialised.

The Doctor sighed. She had been getting increasingly temperamental, perhaps because he had been getting increasingly grumpy. But then, he had a right to be grumpy! Rose had gone, and Donna had declined top come with him in the TARDIS, leaving him utterly alone; until Martha anyway, but then, finally, her one trip had ended, and he had dropped her off in her house, happy as Larry. Well, actually, no, not happy as Larry, she had wanted to continue. Actually, he thought, it might have been good if she'd stayed…

Bah. Might-have-beens were useless. As always, he thought bitterly.

"Where have we ended up this time, old girl?" he said softly to the TARDIS. She didn't answer; not in words. He imagined he'd have to go out. Normally, he wouldn't have complained, but... it was the principal of the thing.

He shook his head. Trying to predict the TARDIS's actions was like trying to predict what he would look like next time he regenerated - pointless and impossible.

"We're not staying. We're really, really not staying", he said, pulling the lever to send them back on their way.

The TARDIS, however, steadfastly refused to move. The Doctor tried talking to it, threatening it, and bashing the console with a hammer, but it just wouldn't work. She wasn't going anywhere.

The Doctor sighed. Oh for the days when he could have traded her in for a type 57...

"Oh well. Might as well get it over with..."

He picked his long coat off the wall, adjusted his tie, and walked out of the door, to face whatever might be out there.

--

Idyllic beauty. That was what was out there. A large, glittering lake, white-topped mountains, forests… England, if he wasn't mistaken. Or maybe Scotland; England wasn't known for massive mountain ranges. He turned around the TARDIS corner, and saw a massive castle stood towering nearby, with lights in the windows, tall, beautiful… idyllic.

The Doctor smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Certainly, there were no Dalek invasions, no Cybermen plots, no Sontarans, and no Master...

Well. Of course there was no Master.

"Oi!" came a booming voice from behind him, shocking him out of his reverie.

The Doctor turned, hoping to God it wasn't a cliched farmhand with a shotgun like in the films. Suffice to say, it wasn't. It was, in fact, a massive man (really, absolutely massive; couldn't possibly be fully human. Maybe Magantarian…), in a long coat, aiming a pink umbrella at him threateningly. If it is possible to aim a pink umbrella threateningly.

"Who are ya?" he yelled, brandishing the umbrella like a weapon, keeping the point trained on the Doctors nose. The Doctor stared cross eyed at it for a moment, then snapped his eyes up to the Giant's.

"I'm the Doctor," he said, brandishing a smile.

"Doctor who?" asked the giant, puzzled, the umbrella not moving. The Doctor grinned at him. Oh, the times he had heard that, and the places...

"Everyone says that," he grinned. "I'm just the Doctor."

"Yer here for the job interview?" said the giant, still brandishing the umbrella.

"Yes!" said the Doctor suddenly, struck by inspiration. "I'm here for the job interview, and I got a little lost, after all, it is a big place, isn't it? And I was wondering..."

He trailed off. The giant was smiling, all trace of hostility vanishing from his features.

"Well then!" he boomed. "Why didn't you say so? I'll guide you up. Oh!" he added suddenly, as if he had forgotten something drastically important. "I forgot to introduce myself. Rubeus Hagrid is my name, gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

He smiled, and turned back to the castle, beginning to walk in long strides.

"Now, if you'll just follow me Doctor, I'll have you to Professor Dumbledore's office in a jiffee..."

The Doctor shrugged to himself. 'No harm in going for a job interview, I suppose', he thought, and then it struck him; something this… Rubeus Hagrid had said. 'Magical creatures'?

Oh, this sounded good.

He followed Hagrid up to the castle, his curiousity piqued.

--

He entered the office of Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, excellent, how nice to see you!" said Dumbledore as the Doctor entered. He was standing, looking out the window. He was a tall man, with long silver hair and a longer silver beard, with little half moon specs hanging on his nose. His clothes were… eccentric to say the least; long robes, in silver.

"Nice to be welcomed", replied the Doctor, happily.

"Well, I know that you want to get on," said Dumbledore, sitting down, "you do have a whole school year to plan for, so I won't keep you..."

The Doctor blanched. What?

"Hang on, I thought this was an interview!" he said, bemused, bewildered, befuddled, and a whole load of other b-words.

"Well, it was," said Dumbledore, smiling, "but since no one else has even considered the job, then you get it by default."

"How do you know I'm good enough for the job?" asked the Doctor, now rather worried.

Dumbledore stopped for a second, as if it had never occurred to him.

"You know, that is actually a good point," he said. "Oh well, I'm sure you know what you're doing. You wouldn't have applied if you didn't, after all!"

The Doctor laughed nervously, now completely buggered.

"Well, it's something of an honour," he laughed, high pitched, "I just expected it to be difficult to get..."

"Well, when you're the only applicant, it isn't," replied Dumbledore. "What's your name, might I ask?"

"Er..." stammered the Doctor, still stunned, "Smith. Dr John Smith."

"Smith. Splendid," smiled Dumbledore. "Anyway, I'll let you get on."

The Doctor walked out, and headed for the grounds, hoping that he could deal with the challenge presented to him...

He didn't hear Dumbledore murmur the words, "hello again, Doctor."

--

The Doctor read furiously. He had now read, by his reckoning, one hundred and twenty five books on magic. It was a fascinating subject, you could be sure of it. Absolutely fascinating. But how was he supposed to teach defence against the dark arts?

Well, he thought to himself, if the past nine hundred years have tought me anything, it's that improvisation is always your best option.

So he got reading.


	2. First Lesson

The Great Hall was a massive structure, with a roof that looked like the sky outside. The Doctor looked at it, and smiled, before tuning into the speech that Dumbledore was giving.

"And of course, that tradition for the start of term, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Dumbledore.

The Doctor stood up, nodded, and smiled, and there was… lukewarm applause.

"This is Dr John Smith, and he'll be taking over the job", continued Dumbledore. "I expect you to show him every courtesy."

The Doctor stood up a couple of seconds longer, waving a bit, then sat down, a grin like the Cheshire cats on his face.

He thought about everything that had happened since he had got the job, that lovely August evening...

--

He had discovered about magic. Being the Doctor, he'd had to find out what it _really_ was, so he'd done some digging. The results of that research had fascinated him, and he'd just had to share it.

And, he'd reasoned, a classroom would be the perfect place. After all, what cold he teach them about defending themselves? But the origins of magic...

It was only then of course, that he'd found out what had happened to the last four DADA teachers.

"One year," he had said to Dumbledore, "then I'm gone. I'm fond of this body, so I really wouldn't want to lose it or have it possessed, I don't like suitcases - at least, I don't like the idea of living in one, I've had amnesia and it's overrated, and I'd rather not be outed as anything embarrassing."

"Of course," Dumbledore had replied amicably. "If that is what you feel is best, I cannot hinder you."

"Well, good," the Doctor had said. "See that you don't."

--

To be fair, he didn't like everything about this place. On the way to his first lesson, he bumped into a man wearing a long black cloak, and black, greasy hair.

"Oh, so sorry!" he said. The man said nothing. "Doctor John Smith, DADA teacher, and you are…?"

"Busy," the man said, and walked off. The Doctor blinked, and walked off.

--

Harry Potter walked into the DADA classroom, followed by Ron and Hermione. It was their first DADA lesson of the fifth year, and he was hoping that the new guy came close to the brilliance matched by the last two teachers.

Yes, Moody had been an imposter, but he had nonetheless been an interesting teacher. This new bloke would have to be really something to top him.

The new teacher was standing quite calmly, waiting for everyone to arrive, a smile on his face.

When they had all sat down, he began.

"Lets be quite honest with ourselves here," he said, his voice casual. "Does anyone here know where magic came from, originally?"

Not even Hermione put her hand up to that question, which elicited shock all by itself.

Dr Smith grinned, making everyone in the room relax.

"Good job I do then!" he said. "Lets crack on, I've got to cover ten thousand years in sixty minutes, not easy, you know..."

"Hang on," said Harry, raising his hand. "Aren't we going to be learning defence spells?"

Dr Smith grinned again, seemingly not annoyed by the interruption.

"Well, what's the point in knowing any magic, if you don't actually know where it came from?" he asked, and it seemed quite logical.

He sat down. Harry decided to look around the room. Nothing much had changed, except that a big blue box was now standing in the corner.

"Right then," said the Doctor, using his statesman voice. "It all begins with a form of... magical creature, long since extinct, called the Daemons."

He looked hard at them all. Hermione was howing a flicker of recognition at the name, which didn't surprise him - after all, he had read every book in the library, and there was more than one mention of the Daemons in them.

"The Daemons were a race of beings that were enormously powerful, able to alter matter, destroy worlds, change their own size, and generally lots of flashy, impressive stuff like that. They did this using Psionic Energy, which was so powerful that, to someone like you or I, it would almost seem like magic."

He took a breath, noting that the kids were paying rapt attention. Good.

"Unfortunately, they were prone to arguments. Not to mention civil wars, galctic conflicts and general stuff like that. Also, they were quite easy to kill, despite their power - heck, if you showed a bit of compassion or self sacrifice, they blew up, taking lovely little village churches with them. And so they all died."

He took another breath. The kids looked fascinated - well most of them did.

"One Daemon however, survived the slaughter. Azal. He came to this Earth, and guided your ancestors to a state of higher evolution. What happened was, some of his Psionic power bled out, and infected a single small tribe of humans, struggling to survive. Suddenly, they were able to perform mighty magical feats, and this caused some upset. Eventually, by the time of the Romans, humanity had figured out how to control magic, creating words for all the different spells, and that has led us, after thousands of years..."

He paused for dramatic effect –

"... to now," he finished.

He smiled.

"Technically speaking, you don't need flashy words, or magic wands. Only willpower and concentration - that's the point of non - verbal magic, which doubtless you'll be studying next year."

He stood up again, and wrote on the blackboard as he spoke his next words.

"Now then, I want you to take notes on that little story," he said. "If you can't remember a detail, just ask me."

Hermione raised her hand, and Dr Smith gestured to let her speak.

"Sir, how do you know all this?" she asked.

"I know because everyone that has been anywhere outside this solar system knows," he replied.

Everyone burst into laughter, apart from Hermione, who looked shocked, but not amused.

"Outside the solar system?" she said, surprised and just a little bit sceptical.

"Yes," the Doctor replied. "Outside the solar system."

The class stopped laughing. Everyone looked at him again now, with a ixture of derision (from the slytherins) and respect (from everyone else).

Just for a moment, he looked incredibly old, incredibly wise, and incredibly sad. Harry looked hard at him, and he seemed to change... one moment an old man, the next a dandy, the next a titan with wild hair and wilder eyes, the next a man in a leather coat, and the next just a the young man he was...

Everyone slowly got to work on the essay he set them. nobody finished, though, not even Hermione.

The bell rang to signal the end of the lesson.

"Well, that's the end of the lesson," said the Doctor. "For next time, I want a full two page essay on the story I told you. See you all later."

The class left.

"What a weirdo..." said Ron.

"I found it quite fascinating," countered Hermione. "I've read about the Daemons somewhere before..."

Harry was silent, leaving his friends to discuss it. After a moment, Ron tapped him on the shoulder.

"You alright mate?" asked Ron.

"No..." he said. "Did you see the old man, and the bloke in the leather jacket?"

The others looked at him.

"When?" asked Hermione at last.

"Just now..." replied Harry. "They were all part of Dr Smith somehow..."

"Well, I didn't," said Ron.

"I didn't either," said Hermione, "but I think we should perhaps keep an eye on him."

--

The Doctor smiled to himself, then walked up to the TARDIS.

"Ah, old girl..." he said, leaning against the door. "You know, I'm actually starting to enjoy this."

He put his hand on the box. The vibration was still there. She still worked. But however hard he tried, he couldn't get her to go anywhere, couldn't get her to leave this time and place... he pulled his hand away.

"But why did we come here in the first place?" he asked, more to himself than to the TARDIS.

The box remained impassive.

"Oh fine," said the Doctor. "Be like that then. But we're leaving at the end of term."


	3. Substitutiary Locomotion

--

**Some Time Later…**

The Doctor read the paper from cover to cover, and then, disgusted, he threw the paper in the bin.

"Hogwarts High Inquisitor," he repeated. This was not on...

A High Inquisitor had the power to randomly sack people she thought "weren't up to scratch".

The Doctor knew exactly what this was. An attempt to discredit Dumbledore, because he believed that Voldemort had returned. The Doctor knew of Voldemort now, thanks to his research, but had decided early on that it wasn't his fight. What he really hated was that there was a smear campaign on Harry Potter; a child who had lost everything being turned into a hate figure; it was infuriating, but… it wasn't his fight.

In the three weeks he had been teaching, he'd made his mark on the DADA classroom, albeit not much of a mark. A hat stand stood in the corner, with his long coat on it, and his old scarf.

His class of fifth years entered. He had talked them through the origins of magic, and the science of magic, and today's lesson was about magical inheritance.

The students sat down.

"Right," said the Doctor, clapping his hands together. "Magical inheritance today, everyone, so start thinking blood. Not in a vampire way, mind you."

The entire class sniggered. They appreciated the Doctor's sense of humour, something he was immensely happy about. Well, the Slytherin's never did; but the hell with them, they were rude and insulting anyway.

_Ahem._

The Doctor turned at the noise, somewhat startled. A short woman in a pink top and matching skirt, holding a heavy duty clipboard, stood in the corner of the classroom.

"Ah hello," he said, mildly annoyed with it. "You must be the High Inquisitor, Miss..?"

She gave him a sinister sweet smile which made his think vaguely of someone with a knife behind their back.

"My name is Dolores Umbridge," she said. "And yes, I am the High Inquisitor."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, because he really, really didn't like her; which, for him, was a record. He usually didn't dislike someone so quickly, but… he made exceptions occasionally.

"Well, I'm teaching the class about the origins of magic," he told her, "so that they better understand it."

Umbridge stopped smiling in an instant.

"Did you not get the curriculum books?" she asked, her tone still quite friendly, but with a hint of threat in it. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah!" he replied, grabbing a book from his desk, and flicking through it. "Those. Useless, utterly and totally, so I'm just leaving the students to read them at their leisure. Their year long coursework, if you will."

Umbridge frowned slightly, and scribbled on her clipboard.

"Anyhoo," said the Doctor, focusing back onto the class and ignoring the scribbling, "can anyone tell me what the difference between a 'pure blood' wizard –" he frowned slightly at the phrase, "- and a Muggle born one is?"

Hermione Granger put her hand up instantly. The Doctor liked her, she had an inquiring mind. After her initial sceptiscism, she had blossomed into one of the most open minded people he had ever met. He knew that she was still quite close minded at times, but given time, she'd open.

He might even offer her a place in the TARDIS, when it stopped playing up.

"Yes?" he said, smiling at her.

"A Muggle born wizard has no magic in their family, or has it so far back that it has been diluted. A 'pure blood' –" and here she frowned at the phrase as well, which pleased the Doctor no end, "- is a pure wizard, with no Muggle blood."

"Excellent, exactly right, ten points to Gryffindor," he said. "The reason that certain people are becoming wizards, at random, is that the Psionic power in the atmosphere is still there, in spades. It will tale, by my calculations - ooh," he checked his watch, "two hundred billion years for magic to run out, at this rate?"

_AHEM._

The Doctor turned to Umbridge, from whom the coughing had come.

"What's the matter?" he asked. The look on her face was thunderous.

"This is nonsense that you're teaching them," she said, angry. "Dangerous nonsense. If they grow up believing this sort of thing –"

"Then they will have an understanding of their own power, and the danger inherent with it," the Doctor finished coldly, his face showing a mixture of boredom and annoyance.

"What?!" she said, her face red with all the rage she felt. "This is stupid. You're teaching them Muggle stuff – in fact, I've never seen your name on any lists for the school, _Doctor_ Smith!"

She walked right up to him, anger and suspicion marring her already less than perfect features.

"I've never known a Doctor in my life that wasn't a Muggle," she sneered.

"So what?" he replied, nonchalant. "You want me to prove I can do magic?"

"In layman's terms, yes!" she harrumphed.

The Doctor stood up, steeled himself, and took his wand out.

It was a simple design, with a hair of unicorn lodged within, that he had bought a week after he had come to this world.

He pointed it at the hat stand in the corner, and spoke the words that would cast the spell. He concentrated with every ounce of his willpower...

"Treguna... mekoides... tracorum, satis dee..."

He grinned at Umbridge, and flicked his wand with a flourish.

"Substitutiary locomotion," he said, grinning.

And the coat came alive.

It hopped over to Umbridge, grabbed her hands in its sleeves, and pulled her along to invisible music. The kids started clapping along, and the Doctor started singing, the kids backing him up.

"#Treguna Mekoides and Tracorum Satis Dee#" they sang. "Treguna, mekoides and tracorum satis dee..."

"Substitutiary locomotion," the Doctor sang, "it's the power that's far beyond the wildest notion, it's so weird, so feared, yet wonderful to see! Substitutiary locomotion come to me!"

"#Treguna Mekoides and Tracorum Satis Dee#" the kids sang on. Hermione had stopped, however, and frowned. She thought she knew the song from somewhere. The Doctor kept going, while the scarf that was with the coat came alive, and wrapped itself around Umbridges mouth, to stop her from screaming. The Doctor sang on.

"#I don't want locomotiary substitution, or remote intrasitory convolution. Only one precise solution is the key! Substitutiary locomotion it must be. Treguna Mekoides and Tracorum Satis Dee!"

The kids were clapping along, while Umbridge and the coat and scarf spun around and around...

"Substitutiary locomotion, lovely substitutiary locomotion. You've made substututiary history! With Treguna Mekoides and a little help from me!"

"With Treguna Mekoides and Tracorum Satis Dee!" the kids sang. The music kept on going, though...

"Wh -what? Stop this!" Umbridge yelled, as the coat and her careened around.

The Doctor smiled.

"As you wish, Madam Inquisitor!" he said, flicking his wand again. The coat collapsed, taking her down with it.

"How's that for magic?" he asked, as she picked herself up off the floor, angrily.

Umbridge sniffed, scribbled some more, and left, fuming.

'Ooh, scary,' thought the Doctor mockingly.

The Doctor turned back to the classroom.

"Now... where were we?"

--

Sometime later, in the common room, Harry, Ron and Hermione were discussing the lesson. Harry and Ron laughed as they recounted the dance to themselves. They sang the song to themselves, as Hermione thought it over.

"The look on Umbridges face!" said Ron after a while. "Priceless!"

Hermione didn't laugh. She was too busy thinking. Where had she heard that spell before...?

"What's up with you?" asked Ron, staring at her.

It clicked in her mind where she had heard the spell in a moment.

"That was not a real magic spell," she said. "It was a spell from a movie. More specifically, Bedknobs and Broomsticks."

Ron, being from a wizard family, had never heard of TV or movies, but Harry was aghast.

"D'you think he might be a spy from Voldemort?" he said, now very concerned.

"Don't say the name!!" exclaimed Ron.

"Shut up, Ron," said Harry.

"I don't think he's a spy – how would a Death Eater know about a movie?" said Hermione. "But I think he's not what he claims to be."

She leaned forward, confidentially.

"That box in the corner is the key," she whispered. "If we get into that, we'll find out who he is."


	4. Explanations

The three of them sneaked into the DADA classroom, underneath the invisibility cloak. Once inside, Hermione came out from under the cloak.

"Alright, I'll open the box", said Hermione softly, walking up to it.

She used her wand - the alohamora - on it, but it had no effect. She did so for several minutes, until finally she gave up.

"It's not working!!" she hissed at the boys.

Before they could answer, the door opened behind her.

"Hello," said Dr Smith, standing in the doorway of the box.

Hermione stepped back, shocked. She tried to regain her composure.

"Hello sir, I was just –"

"Trying to get into the box," he said, smiling, as if it didn't matter in the slightest that she had been attempting breaking and entering. "I don't blame you. To be honest, I was waiting for somebody to catch on, and I always thought it would be you. I assume Harry and Ron are nearby?"

The other two came out from beneath the cloak, guilty looks plastered on their faces.

"Hello sir," they said together.

He grinned at them, not at all angry.

"Oh, stop looking so guilty," he said. "No harm done, after all..."

He seemed to consider for a moment, then stepped aside, allowing them access to the Box.

"You'd better come inside," he said.

They stepped into the box, and they stood there gaping for a moment. It was large, overgrown with coral, green tinted, with roundels on the walls and a mushroom shaped console in the centre.

"Wow," said Ron, which just about summed up how Harry felt as well.

"It's just bigger on the inside, what are you wowing for?" said Hermione.

The Doctor laughed at that, before turning to a mushroom shaped console in the centre of the room.

"Now then," he whispered, as if talking to the console, "are you absolutely sure you won't move? Please? Pretty please with edible ball bearings on top?"

"Who are you talking to?" asked Harry, slightly bemused by this.

"The TARDIS, if only she were listening," the Doctor responded.

"What's the TARDIS?" asked Ron.

The Doctor gestured all around them, his arms spread wide.

"This," he said simply. He sat down on a nearby chair.

"Where to begin?" he mused to himself, then he stared each of them in the eye.

"This is going to sound insane," he said.

"We can deal with insane," Harry assured him.

"I am a Time Lord. I travel around the universe in this, my TARDIS, and I've gotten stuck. She's partially alive, so she must be in a mood."

He said all that very quickly. He looked at them each in turn.

"With me so far?" he asked.

Harry was looking puzzled, Ron had a look of sheer uncomprehending blankness, and Hermione was nodding, seemingly the only one who understood.

"I've read legends about a man called the Doctor, who travelled in a blue box..." she said slowly. "It says that he's saved the world countless times."

The Doctor grinned. "_Well_, maybe not countless times..."

"How do you do magic, when you're a Muggle?" asked Harry, interested in that particular part of the Doctor's facade.

"Simple really," he replied. "I'm not a Muggle, I'm a Time Lord. We had immense mental powers, and even now I'm still pretty formidable in a mental fight. I just have to concentrate REALLY hard. There's enough of that Psionic energy in the air so that I can channel it, but I'm not very powerful." He grinned again. "Like I said, it only takes willpower - something I've got buckets of."

"So you're not staying?" asked Hermione, changing the subject.

"Nope," he replied. "I have a date with the universe. The TARDIS wants me to do something, but I just don't know what."

He looked at the console, and sighed.

"Temperamental old thing. She's always doing this sort of thing, when I think about it. Trying so hard to help me, and just annoying me in the process."

He turned to them, his face suddenly quizzical.

"Anyway, you aren't meant to be out here, are you?"

They exchanged glances.

"Not really," admitted Harry.

"Then back to your common room!" shouted the Doctor. "Go on, scat!"

"One last thing," said Harry. "When I saw you in that first lesson, you sort of changed into other people..."

The Doctor looked at him, wonder in his eyes.

"Deep perception. You see the men I was. A by product of the Psionic energy that you have in your bloodstream. I thought it was just a theory, but apparently it works... only one wizard in a thousand has the deep perception!" He gave Harry a slightly awed look. "Amazing... anyway! Scat!"

He ushered them out, and shut the door on them.

The next evening, in the common room, they were discussing the Doctor.

"The 'men he was'? What does that mean?" asked Ron, confused by that singularly odd statement.

"What I've heard of the Time Lords - bearing in mind this is all hearsay from centuries ago - is that when they die, they come back..." Hermione said.

"Reincarnation?!" exclaimed Harry. "That isn't possible - is it?"

"Well, Pheonix's can do it," she shrugged. "So maybe Time Lords can too..."

"Sounds weird," muttered Ron, "but then again, everything about the Doctor is weird."

"One point remains," said Hermione, sitting back carefully, as if she was about to say something very important. "He can't teach us any defence, no matter what he can, and the books Umbridge gave him aren't any better, so we need to find a third option."

"What?" asked Harry, wondering what this third option was going to be.

As Hermione spoke, Harry's eyes widened. She couldn't be suggesting what Harry thought she was suggesting...

And near the fire, on that evening, the DA was born...


	5. Sadistic, Insane, In Charge

The Doctor enjoyed teaching; the class were easy to engage with, and asked, for the most part, good, and sometimes even insightful. Sometimes. Hermione Granger for example, had asked for a detailed explanation as to how undetectable extension charms worked, allowing the Doctor to give his favourite explanation as to how it worked; big box little box. It was a good class. More than once, he had given them lessons on how to sneak around corridors (stealth was one skill he had long since mastered), how to annoy people in authority (from what Severus Snape - Mr Unpleasant Man - had been saying, they were practicing it mainly in Potions lessons) and once, he had actually brought in a

Then one day, to his immense surprise, some time after the Christmas, he got a message from Umbridge to come to Professor Dumbledore's office. She wasn't... well, frankly, he hated her. She was rascist, biased in favour of Slytherins, and worst of all, from what the Doctor could tell, she and her Ministry were attempting to supress free speech in the wizarding world. Humans.

Still, a summons was a summons, so he went, hands in pockets, tie around his head like a bandana to annoy Umbridge a litte (more than once he had recieved complaints about his dress sense, but she wasn't the boss of him - Malcolm in the Middle, wonderful show!), and suit jacket extra scruffy...

--

Half an hour later, the Doctor was standing in Dumbledore's office, along with Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall, Umbridge and the minister for magic, Cornelius Fudge, who had come with two Aurors (a sort of Wizarding FBI, or so the Doctor had heard). The Doctor had decided that this man Fudge was a typical politician - stupid, arrogant, greedy and vain - but that if the wizarding world wanted him, then they could have him. He wasn't overthrowing anyone else in this country - at least, not in this incarnation. Maybe next time...

"This is clearly a breach of Hogwarts rules!" shouted Umbridge. "I would suggest the expulsion of Potter, and putting most of the rest in detention for the rest of the school year…"

The Doctor sighed. From what he had figured, Harry had started a Defence Against The Dark Arts club, but since this was against Umbridges rules (Educational Decrees she called them, stupidest name he'd ever heard...) he was now in serious trouble.

"And yet," said Dumbledore quietly, yet somehow with more power in his voice than the shouting woman, "we do not know the DADA teachers opinion on the matter. Dr Smith, this is your subject...?"

The Doctor straightened, and put on his very best 'teacher' voice. He wanted to help Harry as much as he could - the kid had lived a hard life, he didn't deserve all this trouble. Certainly not the stuff that was being heaped on him.

"It seems to me," he said, trying to sound intellectual (difficult with the accent he had) "that this has been going on for some time… possibly since before the creation of the post of high inquisitor, and certainly before your educational decrees."

He tilted his head, and looked at Harry straight in the eye, then winked without smiling. Harry winked back.

"However, that doesn't excuse the fact that this was a rule breaking incident. I would suggest one month detention for Potter, and a single session for all the others," he finished.

He mouthed 'sorry' to Harry at this point.

'It's OK' mouthed Harry back.

Then Umbridge pulled her trump card - a crumpled piece of paper, long, with writing upon it; "Then there was this!" she yelled, triumph shrieking in her voice. It was a parchment with the words 'Dumbledore's Army' written in large letters at the top. The Doctor blinked; Dumbledores Army - political rallism! Magnificent! He actually smiled.

"It's a political protest," he smiled. "Happens all the time in Muggle schools. They start wearing badges or bracelets..."

But he stopped speaking as Dumbledore smiled, and the Doctor watched his expression become resolute. And suddenly, he realised… Dumbledore meant to sacrifice himself; the Minister wouldn't accept political rallism, and Umbridge was a fascist lunatic; the only thing that would help Harry now would be for Dumbledore to go. Before the Doctor said anything, Dumbledore began speaking...

"Well," he said. "I suppose the gig is up."

"What?" Fudge said.

"Despite Dr Smith's explanation," Dumbledore said, the smile still there, "the name says... Dumbledore's Army."

The Doctor was shaking his head, though he didn't know why. He knew what he did know though, and that was that Dumbledore did not have to do this. Umbridge shrieked in triumph.

"You were planning to attack the Ministry, replace the Minister!" she crowed, then leered at the Doctor. "'Political protest' indeed!"

The Doctor ignored her. Dumbledore smiled, still. The Doctor put his hand on Dumbledore's shoulder, and whispered in his ear.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

Dumbledore smiled, and turned to Fudge, who stared at him in a mixture of happiness and anger.

"You're under arrest!" he shouted, gesturing at him and turning to the various Aurors he had brought. "Take him!"

Dumbledore smiled over the top of his glasses.

"Ah, Cornelius," he said, "I think that you labour under the impression that I'm going to - oh what's the phrase - come quietly? I'm very much afraid I shall not," he finished with a smile. Fudge looked dumbfounded. "You aren't going to 'take me' anywhere I don't want to go."

Fudge gaped like a fish. The Doctor grinned, and then Dumbledore flicked his wand. There was a silver light, and the Doctor knew no more…

--

The Doctor woke up in the hospital wing with a start, wearing - to his own consternation - a pair of pyjama's. He _hated_ pyjama's.

"You were asleep for some time," said Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, who came into view with a smile. "I've never seen anyone react so badly to a stunning spell."

"Weak constitution," replied the Doctor, standing up. "Different metabolism."

He sat up, got up, and walked out, still in pyjama's. Madam Pomfrey was about to protest, but then Pansy Parkinson, a nasty excuse for a girl, walked into the room - with Antlers. The Doctor suppressed a grin, and continued walking. Weak constitution his hairy yellow behind... he reacted differently to the stunner because he was alien, and he knew it. He'd have to be careful; there was no way of knowing what the exact effect of any of these spells would be on him.

--

It was another day, another lesson. The Doctor was teaching the kids of fifth year about the science of Apparation, which worked something like the TARDIS, only much faster (he had neglected to mention the TARDIS to the class of course).

He looked up at Harry, who was sitting at the front, when he saw something that bothered him. Something that made his blood run cold. His hand was covered in a blood stained bandage, which clearly hadn't been tended by the nurse. At the end of class, he asked Harry to stay behind.

"Show me your hand," he said. Harry hesitated. "That was not a request." Reluctantly, Harry took the bandage off of his hand.

Engraved on the back of his right hand were, shining white, the words _'I will not disobey the rules'_.

"Who did this?" asked the Doctor, though he already knew.

"Umbridge," replied Harry, quietly. "Listen, Doctor, I don't want a fuss..."

"Harry," the Doctor said, looking at him with a dangerous glint in his eye, "there are times - not always, but occasionaly - when a fuss is exactly what you want."

"But Doctor..." Harry protested. The Doctor held up a hand to silence him, and sent him on his way.

Yes, there were times when you needed to make a fuss. And this was one of those times.

--

When he walked into Umbridges office, he immediately launched into a number two anti-nutter rant. The only reason he hadn't used the number one was that he was saving it for later in the argument he knew was coming.

"Slicing his hand open," he began, when Umbridge looked up at him. "I'll admit, I've met teachers who treat their students worse, but they had the excuse that it was for a purpose, that they had a REASON," he finished, raising his voice a notch.

Umbridge looked up, as the Doctor entered her office. She smiled sweetly, but his expression, one of cold hatred, made her quite nervous.

"But slicing Harry's HAND open –" the Doctor continued...

"A logical lesson," countered Umbridge quietly. "If he associates rule breaking with pain, he won't break the rules."

"He started a CLUB!" yelled the Doctor, allowing his fury to show through. "Hardly good reason to mutilate his hand!"

"'Mutilate his hand,'" said Umbridge in a sing song voice. "I gave him lines to write, and he wrote them."

Sheopened her handbag, reached in, and showed the Doctor the special quill.

"A device that teaches a moral message," she said. "Words have their price. And what sort of punishment is WRITING anyway?!"

The Doctor stared at her, shocked beyond belief that this woman was here, at a school, with _children_ and not at a mental institute in a locked padded cell, or for that matter dead.

"You are totally insane," he said at last, calmly, horror struck.

"I'm also in charge of this school," she said, matter of factly. "Remember that."

"Oh, I will," the Doctor said. "You just bet I will, Umbridge. You think I'm scared of you?" he added, leaning in to whisper at her. "I've faced horrors you wouldn't believe. Compared to them, you...?"

He snapped his fingers in her face. Let her try to deal with him. He was the Doctor. He stared for a moment more, then turned and walked out of the room.

"Don't anger me, Dr Smith," Umbridge called after him.

The Doctor turned to stare at her. Images of Daleks, Cybermen, Gelth, Nestenes and a Thousand others flowed through his mind like a bad film.

"No Umbridge," he said calmly. "You don't anger _me_."

--

"What?" said Minerva McGonagall, aghast.

"You heard," said the Doctor shortly. "She sliced his hand open. A quill that uses his own blood to write lines. Clever," he admitted grudgingly, "but insane."

Flitwick was thinking this over, sat quietly on a high chair. Severus Snape looked no different, but his face seemed solid. Professor Sprout looked furious, as did Hagrid. Firenze, the teacher of Divination after Umbridge had sacked Professor Trelawney (who the Doctor was avoiding, mainly because he didn't like the idea of someone telling him his future) was not here, but the Doctor had no intention of telling him anyway - he had met Centaurs (who had never mentioned magic - didn't think it was their place too, probably) and they were vague, sometimes amoral and certainly inhuman, with a different code of conduct and morality to humans.

McGonagal sat down, shocked by this revelation. She had always thought Umbridge a little strict, but this was...

"But… why?" she said at last.

"She's a sadist," the Doctor sighed. "Utterly insane."

"What do we do?" asked Sprout.

"We can do nothing," said Snape. "She is in charge of this school, and as such, we can take no action against her."

"Just watch yourself," he continued. "She's not the sort of person you'd want to cross."

He walked out of the staff room, and smiled when he was sure that McGonagal couldn't see him. Soon she was going to rally the staff in a quiet protest, and subtly undermine Umbridges authority.

Magnificent.


	6. Yana

Inside the black console room of his TARDIS, the Master was panting, panicking, breathing hard, scared out of his wits… it was the oddest thing. He had never been this scared, not once, not ever. Not even when he had nearly died. Not even then had he felt this urge, to hide, to run, to break away from the universe and become something else…

Something else…

He had to do it. No Time Lord he had heard of had ever done it. Not even the Doctor had done it, although the whole Half Human thing was a little far fetched… ha.

Could the process be trusted? Of course. The Time Lords had designed it themselves to be foolproof, and if they were good at anything, it was making things foolproof. Apart from Type Forty TARDIS's but that was the Doctor's problem; not the Masters.

He vaguely thought of the memories that made him himself; the drums. Insanity. Murder. Ailla…

Yes. He wanted to hide. Hide from the knowledge of himself, as much as from the Time Lords.

He flicked a switch on his TARDIS console, and the chameleon arch options came up. He briefly considered going to the end of the universe in order to escape, but… no, too remote. No chance of being restored there. Then he hit the 'random destination' button. That, at least, would make sure the Time Lords would never find him, nor would the Daleks.

Then he activated the arch, and it came down, and he closed his eyes, fortifying himself for the inevitable agony to come…

--

**1978.**

He awoke, unsure who he was, or what he was, or why he was, and the only thing he knew was that he had a pounding headache.

"Hello," a voice, unfamiliar but at the same time comforting, said from above him. He blinked, and looked up, to see a man with a long silver beard and silver hair looking down on him. "I'm Albus Dumbledore… who are you?"

He took a moment to answer, because in all honesty, he did not know… and then it came to him, so obviously that he didn't know why he hadn't answered before.

"My name is Yana," he said, and he smiled. "Maximillian Yana."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Dumbledore smiled. Yana sat up, and looked around; he was in what appeared to be a hospital.

"Do you have any idea why you are here?" Dumbledore asked.

"I presume I'm ill," Yana said. "Or injured."

"You were found in the grounds of the school," Dumbledore said, "lying next to a statue of a man with a beard and a crown, wearing long robes; a statue none of the teachers can recall having seen."

Yana shrugged.

"I'm rather afraid I cannot help you," Yana smiled. "The last thing I remember is…"

He stopped. There was no last thing. Now he thought about it, there was nothing.

"Can you tell me where you come from?" Dumbledore asked.

"Norridge," Yana said at once. "I was born in Norridge in 1938; my parents were Anna and Marius Yana. I was –," he stopped, and then looked at Dumbledore suspiciously. "Home educated."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore said. "If I was to say Quidditch, what would you say?"

"A game played on broomsticks," Yana replied at once. "Never my forte."

Dumbledore smiled, and held out his hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Yana," he said. Yana took the hand, and smiled back.

--


	7. The New Teacher

Many years later, Yana was little more than a traveller, going along from one place to the next, occasionally helping when he could. There was little he did not know, few problems he could not solve; he was, in fact, remarkably clever.

Sometimes, though, he felt he needed more of a challenge. Any challenge, really, he was not fussed.

Then, one day, he opened a copy of the Daily Prophet (which he had delivered every day for the necessity of keeping in touch with the world) and opened it, to see the announcement of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts…

Hogwarts, the place he had been found, with a gap in his memories. Hogwarts, where resided…

What?

He shook his head, and read the article.

_Dr John Smith, 36, from Newcastle, has taken on the role of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. His previous jobs include…_

But Yana hadn't read any more – because he had seen the picture. Smith was apparently a youngish man, dressed in a scruffy pinstripe suit, smiling sheepishly, slightly embarrassed from all the attention. Yana didn't know how, but he knew this man. So his next destination was set.

He would go to Hogwarts.

--

**Five months later.**

"Yana. my name is Yana," the old man smiled. He held out his hand, and Umbridge took it. He was a dignified sort, this Yana; Black Frock Coat, dark red waistcoat, black trousers, white shirt, black cravat. Dignified, intelligent seeming.

"Lovely to meet you," she said, a smile upon her face. "I am Professor Umbridge, headmistress of this school."

Yana shook her hand, amiably, but his face betrayed a moments puzzlement as he sat down.

"Forgive me, Professor," he said, "I have been out of touch with the news whilst on the move… but the last I heard, Albus Dumbledore was head_master."_

The emphasis he put on the word _master _made Umbrdge shiver slightly, as though it meant something. She shook it off.

"He was," she explained, her voice hard, "but he was replaced by me when he turned traitor against the ministry. Tea?" she asked, offering him a cup.

Yana smiled coldly, and took the cup. He sipped the tea, smiled, and then looked up at her, his eyes twinkling.

"I take it from your unhappiness that he... eluded capture?" he asked, delicately.

"Yes," glowered Umbridge, looking more and more like a toad. Yana smiled a little more, and sipped the tea again. It was a tad bitter, but complaining would be impolite and, after all, he was hoping for a little news.

"I thought so," Yana said, quiet triumph in his voice though he tried to suppress it. "Dumbledore always was a slippery customer. I remember one time when I tried to harness the power of Veela magic, he -"

Yana stopped talking, and frowned. "What did I just say?" he asked, bemused.

"Something about harnessing Veela magic," Umbridge replied, equally befuddled, slightly worried.

"I must be going doolally," he said, after a moments pause that seemed to stretch out, "but I'm sure I've never done any such thing..."

Umbridge waved her hand, brushing the incident aside. This man seemed intelligent and, more than that, he was human. She liked him.

"Do you mind if I ask why you are here?" she asked.

"Well," Yana smiled, "I decided to come and see how the old place was going on. I was, after all, found here after the incident which claimed some of my memory…"

"What incident?" Umbridge asked, quickly.

"I don't remember," Yana deadpanned, and then he chuckled. "Nothing horrific I am sure; I'd remember if it was…"

"I would like to offer you a job, Yana..."

--

The Great Hall, the next day.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," Umbridge was saying, "I take great pleasure in introducing your new divination teacher, Professor Yana!"

At the far end of the staff table, an oldish man in edwardian apparel stood, bowed, and sat back down again. Harry had a look at him, and for a moment, he could have sworn that there was something more to him.

"What about Firenze?" came a voice from the Gryffindor table. Parvati Patel was standijng on her feet, a look of utter outrage evident on her face. Umbridge frowned.

"Detention, Ms Patel," she said. "Firenze - the half breed - has been sacked. And about time."

The Doctor, sitting along the row from her, shook his head disparigingly. This woman was sadistic, insane, and rascist. Words formed unbidden in his mind, memories that he didn't want.

'You would make a good Dalek.'

He realised, sadly, that that phrase applied to Umbridge perfectly.

--

Yet more time passed, and, though he would never have admitted it out loud, the Doctor was enjoying himself now. Yes, there was Umbridge, but she was being undermined by almost daily practical jokes on a massive scale. The fireworks had been the Doctors favourite. He had seen them go off, set loose by the Weasley twins, and he just HAD to join in. There was no way in hell he could miss this.

Deep in the TARDIS, he found a box of Galactic Glitters, which he had modified, and set off from the grand staircase.

They flew off with a great WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSHHHHHHHH, that startled the students and made Umbridges day even worse, since Galactic Glitters were self replicating and the noise and light lasted for 24 hours approximately. He went back into the DADA classroom, planning for the evening lesson, when Umbridge came into the room.

"You set off some of those fireworks!!" she bellowed, angrily. She was actually red faced. Marvellous. He ignored her.

"Answer me!!" she screamed.

"You want to watch that temper of yours, Delores," he said coolly. "You'll give yourself a hernia."

She looked as though she was going to throttle him, but at that point, one of the Galactic Glitters exploded right outside the door.

"You haven't heard the last of this!!" she screeched, as she ran out.

The Doctor smiled. Umbridge didn't have the power or the authority to threaten him, and none of the teachers would help her. Not even Yana, the teacher she had appointed, who the Doctor quickly realised was a good man despite it. He had spoken with the new divination teacher several times, and found him engaging company.

He didn't know why, but the old man seemed familiar.

--

Professor Yana stood quite calmly, as Harry and Ron entered, a look of severe annoyance on his face.

"You are five minutes late, boys," he said, in a mock stern voice. thy looked at each other in horror, but then Yana's face broke into a smile. "But I don't blame you. This is hardly the most interesting or useful subject taught at this school. However, I am assigned to it, so I shall endeavour to teach you something useful."

They sat down gratefully, as Yana flicked through the curriculum. Then he put down the book carefully, and looked at them.

"Time is," he said. They waited for a moment for him to add to this description, but he said nothing more.

"Time is what, Professor?" Parvati Patil asked; she was cradling her hand slightly, the words 'I shall not interrupt' carved there. Yana's eyes glanced at the scar, and then he looked at each of the class in turn.

"Time is," he repeated. "It exists. There are few ways of accurately predicting the future, since it is always in flux, with only a few events fixed to happen..."

He stopped, as a grimace passed over his face. He put a hand to his head and sat down.

"Are you alright sir?" asked Harry genuinely concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine," Yana said. "It's just that my head - it's pounding."

**Duh Duh Duh Duuum. Duh Duh Duh Duum.**

"Perhaps you should visit the hospital wing," said Parvati.

"Certainly not!" Yana said, with a sudden fierceness, real anger on his face. For a moment, he looked like a different person. Far older... far darker... far more -

The moment ended, and old Professor Yana was back.

"I am touched by your concern, Ms Patel," Professor Yana said, smiling again, "but I'm quite alright. It'll take more then a headache to stop me from teaching."

"Shame," whispered Ron to Harry. Yana pretended not to notice, and continued teaching, the drums pounding again...

**Duh Duh Duh Duum. Duh Duh Duh Duum...**

--

Weeks passed. The happy feeling the Doctor had, the enjoyment, had gone. Fred and George had left, and none of the other jokes were anywhere near as fun or interesting as theirs had been. Hagrid had been rather violently sacked. Both he and Firenze, who'd been living with him, had been forced to flee from Umbridge and co. Even worse, Professor McGonagall had been injured while trying to protect them.

The Doctor was miserable now, and couldn't stand staying here. "I hope," he said to the innocuos blue box sitting in the corner for what he calculated was the fifty seventh time, "that what you've brought me here for is worth all this."

The TARDIS said nothing, and the Doctor slumped in his chair. Unable to do anything, angered by Umbridges actions, and uncertain of the TARDIS's motives... it wasn't going well. He fell asleep after a while, only for a knock on the door to wake him up.

"Doctor Smith? It's Professor Yana," came a voice. "Professor Umbridge wants to see us."

"Tell her she can go rot!" yelled the Doctor. He was in no mood for Davros the Tranny tonight.

"This is important," Yana called. "Apparently, Harry Potter and some of his friends broke into her office, and they're being questioned now!"

The Doctor had stood up on 'Harry Potter', and barreled out of the office, nearly knocking Yana over. The old teacher spluttered slightly, and looked mildly shocked.

"Come on!" he said. "Don't want to keep her royal bossyness waiting..."

--

Yana was about to follow, when he heard a voice inside his head.

**_"The Box, you fool, the Box!"_**

He turned around; there. A blue box, nine feet tall, and a lamp on top. 'Police Public Call Box.' It was standing in a corner of Dr Smith's office, innocuous, as if it was hiding. Yana had the absurd notion that it was whistling, trying to pretend it hadn't noticed him there.

The door was slightly ajar.

**_"Go in, you fool, go in! The power you need is within! TAKE IT!!"_**

Yana shook his head. He must be going insane... first sign of madness, hearing voices in your head, he told himself. Ignore it. It'll pass. He walked out, and followed Dr Smith.

**Duh Duh Duh Duuum,** the drums went.


	8. The Master

The Doctor entered Umbridges office, Professor Yana close behind. She was alone, her so called "Inquisitorial Squad" absent from the proceedings, but six kids, including Harry Potter (obviously) and Hermione Granger were in there with her.

The looked Umbridge straight in the eye, grim faced. She looked extremely happy which was, as far as the Doctor was concerned, a bad sign.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, deciding that he couldn't stand this woman anymore. "Not happy with your dictatorship? Punishing people for speaking their minds? The usual mad dictator stuff?"

Umbridge smiled sweetly, ignoring his rudeness.

"Freedom of speech is for muggles, Dr Smith, but that's not why I wanted you here," she said; she was smiling like a child with a new toy. "Dr John Smith, you are fired!!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrow. He wasn't bothered in the slightest, but he felt this might prove to be a very tricky situation if he didn't handle it well enough; although handling things well was not what he was known for.

"Mind if I ask why?" he asked politely. At this, Umbridge threw Harry forward.

"They spilled the beans about you, you filthy half breed!" she yelled, ultimate triumph in her voice. "'Time Lord' my arse!" The Doctor looked at Harry, a quizzical look on his face.

"She made us. She was going to torture us..." said Hermione, from the back of the room.

The Doctor looked up at her. Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley, his sister Ginny, and Harry...

"You've got to help us," Harry whispered through gritted teeth, and the Doctor nodded almost inperceptibly.

"Right!" he yelled, startling everyone in the room, "if that's the case Professor Umbridge, I'll be off. You don't need me here getting in your way..."

"I think not, Doctor," she said, malevolence creeping into her voice. "I believe you have a Time Machine... and the ministry would quite like a full working one. Professor Yana, seize him immediately!"

Yana had been standing there like a baffled party goer, too polite to move off from a conversation that puzzled him, but unable to join in.

"What?" he said, still confused.

"I am your employer you stupid old man," she said, her voice rising, "and I order you to seize Dr Smith immediately!"

On Umbridges words, Yana bristled, almost imperceptably, and then, narrowing his eyes, he raised his wand, aimed it at the Doctor... and then, flicking it at Umbridge, he stunned her with a quick flick of the wand. The Doctor stared at him in shock.

"What?" he said at last.

"Can't stand that woman," he explained. "Ghastly temper, and she's remarkably rude. 'Stupid old man' indeed."

The Doctor stood there shocked for a moment, then hugged Yana where he stood, laughing loudly.

"You're brilliant!" he yelled. "Magnificent! Now then..." He turned to the kids, a serious expression on his face. "What did you do to irritate her?" he asked.

Harry explained about Sirius being captured at the Department of Mysteries. When he had finished, the Doctor looked thoughtful, and conflicted...

"Right. And what do you want _me_ to do about it?" he asked at last. Harry gaped at him, not believing what he had just heard.

"You've got a time machine, haven't you?" he asked, shocked. "You can get us there in time to save Sirius!"

"Not my fight, though," the Doctor replied sadly. "I can't risk knackering the timline, and for al I know, Sirius might be meant to die, or you might be meant to rescue him without my help... I sympathise a great deal, but..."

"He's the only family I've got!" yelled Harry. "He'll die if I don't save him!"

The Doctor sagged, defeat spreading across his features in a half annoyed, half relieved way.

"Oh, I really wish you hadn't said that," he sighed. "Come on then."

He turned on his heel, and led the way to the TARDIS, hands firmly jammed in pockets. Harry followed him eagerly. After him came Hermione, who looked half worried, half resolute, Ron, who looked a lot more determined than he felt, a confused Ginny, and Neville, who accepted Harry's lead without question. Soon, only Luna Lovegood and Yana were left.

"Professor," Luna said to him, "I think we should go."

Yana looked at her, and her calmly expectant face, and felt bewildered.

"But..." he spluttered.

"I think you should go with the Doctor," she said, and her voice was suddenly firm. Yana looked at her for a moment, and then he smiled.

"You know, my dear," he said, calmly, "I believe you may be right."

--

When the Doctor got to the TARDIS, he turned to Harry.

"You are sure about this?" he asked. When Harry said nothing, but looked expectantly at the TARDIS door, the Doctor sighed. "Never mind. Nine hundred years of experience with humans, should know better by now, shouldn't I?"

He opened the door with a quick turn of the key.

"Forgive me for asking," came Professor Yana's voice, startling the Doctor, "but how are we all going to fit in there?"

The Doctor looked at him, confused; he and Luna had just shown up.

"You want to come?" he asked at last.

Yana folded his arms, and gave a very stern, almost... familiar someho, expression.

"If you're taking six students of this school into danger," he said, seriousness the Doctor had never heard there creeping in, "then it is my job as the sole responsible teacher here to protect them. You just got fired, even if it was by that repulsive toad of a woman. I'm coming, Doctor, whether you like it or not."

The Doctor opened his mouth, thenb closed it, then opened it again, then closed it again.

"If that's what you want to do," he said at last. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned. "Glad to have you along."

He entered the TARDIS, and the others followed. Those who hadn't been in it before did the usual "ooh, ah" routine, but the Doctor didn't care. He pulled a lever, flicked a switch, and then, suddenly, a great noise came up, a noise he had not heard in a year...

The TARDIS was in flight. The central columm went up and down, and a hideous Vworp Vworp noise filled the room. The Doctor turned.

"We're off," he said. To his own surprise, he felt an enourmous sense of peace...

'This is what we're here to do, it must be,' he thought to himself. 'The TARDIS wants me to help...'

--

Yana held his head. The voices were getting louder... what did all these things mean? He didn't know, and he didn't want to...

"Are you all right Professor Yana?" came a voice from somewhere.

Yana looked up to see the Doctor standing over him, glasses on, hands firmly in pockets. He realised he was sitting on a chair.

"I'm fine, Doctor. It's just... a headache, that's all," he explained. "What did you say this machine was called?" he asked after a moment.

"A TARDIS," the Doctor smiled. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space."

**TARDIS. TARDIS. Time Lord. Time Travel. ****_TARDIS... Time Lord... Open the watch!_**

"This is a time machine?" Yana asked. "A vessel for travelling through time?"

"Yup," the Doctor smiled. "Anywhere, anywhen."

"Never could keep time, myself," Yana said. he took out the watch that, for some reason, he always wore. Habit, most likely. He took it out, and showed it to the Doctor. "Broken. Always late, me. Always... lost."

The Doctor was staring at the watch, and his face turned cold, and almost scared.

"How long have you had this?" he asked.

"As long as I can remember," Yana smiled, but there was uncertainty in his smile. "Why?"

"Do you hear voices?" the Doctor asked, his voice sharp.

"Uh..." Yana was confused. "How... how do you know...?"

"What kind of voices?" the Doctor asked.

"They're saying things..." Yana said, glad to speak of it for the first time in his life. "'Time Lord', 'TARDIS', things I don't understand..."

The Doctor looked at him right in the eye, as if studying something held deep within it's depths...

"I'd ignore them, Yana," he said at last. "Voices in your head only ever want trouble."

Yana looked at the Doctor. And unbidden, the voices spoke again.

**_"Kill him!"_**

The Doctor walked away from him, and he blinked. There was something more to this, something more that he didn't understand, but that he swore he would.

"You are the Master of all," a girls voice said to him, and he turned to see... Lovegood, smiling at him. "Believe in yourself," she added. "All you desire can be yours."

Yana looked at her, and then he leaned forward.

"What...?"

_Tappity tap. Tappity tap._

She was tapping her fingers against the side of her leg. He started tapping his, and then she held a finger to her lips, and winked.

And then he was alone in his chair.

--

The Doctor stood at the console, thinking what Yana had said over and over. If what he thought was happening to the old man was... well. It all depended on who it was that was hiding in that watch, didn't it?

"Hello," a girls voice said, and the Doctor blinked, turned, and found himself facing a fourth year girl, who for some reason he didn't know the name of.

"Hello," he said, slightly snappishly. "What can I do for you?"

"The Lord and Master of all things is about to rise," she said, smiling away. "And when he does, the Last of the Fallen Lords of Time will no longer be the last."

"What?" the Doctor squeaked, confused.

The girl said nothing more, but just tapped her fingers against her leg.

_Tappity Tap. Tapptiy Tap._

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked, staring at her.

"Luna Lovegood," she replied. The name was familiar...

"Xeno Lovegoods daughter?" the Doctor asked in amazement. She nodded, and walked away.

He slumped against the console. Of all the people to make predictions... Xeno's daughter. 'Oh well,' he thought, 'if she's anything near as weird as her Dad, she's talking nonsense...'

He hoped.

--

The entrance to the ministry of magic was silent and deserted. Until the TARDIS materialised, that is. The trumpeting noise shattered the calm of the dark place, and the people coming out of it a second later didn't help.

The Doctor walked out, followed by his companions, all of whom made rather a lot of noise...

"Lead on," he said to Harry, who was already running ahead of them all.

Harry obliged, and ran even more. Professor Yana stayed by the TARDIS, and no one noticed him. The Doctor was too busy trying to keep up with the kids.

**_"Open the watch! OPEN THE WATCH!!"_**

The voices could not be denied any longer... his head was pounding... He took the watch out of his pocket, held it up to his face, and opened it...

A golden light streamed over him, casting his eyes into deep shadow. If anyone could have seen them, they would have seen a dark intelligence enbter them - that and madness...

And the n it was over, and Professor Yana - or rather, the being who had been Professor Yana, looked up from the watch, a dark gleam in his eye...

--

By now, the were in the room of many doors. The Doctor was scanning them with his sonic screwdriver, hoping to find the right one, when he suddenly stopped - a stricken expression hit his face, and he sagged.

"Doctor?" asked Ron, the only person who noticed. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing..." replied the Doctor. "I just... thought I felt something familiar..."

Unnoticed by anyone, Luna Lovegood smiled.

--

He dropped the watch, and stepped on it, all his pent up frustration being focused on the little device. He crushed it under his Edwardian boot heel, and laughed out loud. He stared at the TARDIS. The Doctor had locked it, sadly, so he would have to find him. Kill him. Rip his body into litle pieces. _Concentrate, _Master. The Doctor would know him as soon as he saw him, though, so he would have to try something else. He remembered his own TARDIS, at the grounds of Hogwarts, hidden; the statue. He smiled, and decided to wait. After all... he was the Master of all, and that included patience...


	9. Reunion

Sneaking in stealthily, Dolohov and Mulciber noted the old man, stepping on an old fob watch, and looked at each other, each thinking the same thing; get him.

Dolohov raised his wand, pointing it at the strangers back. Mulciber did the same.

Lucius had put them in charge of dealing with any Ministry workers that remained behind, and while he didn't look like a Ministry worker, he was _there_, so he must be.

"Hold it, old man," said Mulciber, putting on his most threatening tone.

The man turned, a slight smile on his face, blue eyes that looked as though they never shone; dead and cold. He seemed completely unthreatening. But then, seemed was never the same as _is_.

"I know you," said Dolohov, completely forgetting himself at the sight of the familiar man.

"Do you?" said the man, in a tone that suggested that he didn't think Dolohov knew him in the slightest, and that, if the man had the choice, Dolohov would never know him.

"I know of you anyway," Dolohov clarified. "You're Maximillian Yana, the Hogwarts divination teacher."

The man smiled even more, a cold threatening thing that reminded them of their own masters smile; a thought they quickly shook off, both of them. Angering this old man would be nothing, compared to the anger of the Dark Lord...

"Sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen, but that's not who I am at all," the old man said, the cold, dead smile gracing his features still, unnerving in it's intensity. "'Yana', was an invention, a disguise so perfect, I forgot who I truly am, what I truly am, what I am meant to be."

"Then who are you?" said Mulciber, confused. What was this old fool on about?

"I am…" the old man began, but then he stopped. "My name is the Master. I am a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterberous. I am over one thousand years old, and – just in case you think I'm insane, I would ask you to look into my eyes."

Dolohov raised an eyebrow, and looked at Mulciber – but his colleague was staring blankly at the Master. Dolohov realised what this was, and tried to cast a curse, but he found himself staring at the Master's eyes, and listening to the comforting voice...

"Yes, that's it. You serve a new Master, Death Eater..."

--

They had gone to the place where Sirius was meant to be, but found it completely empty. The Doctor looked around, hands in pockets, staring at all the glass balls. Several caught his notice, including one that said, for some reason, _Lords of Time 1+2 _(he'd have to investigate that at some point). He still couldn't shake off the feeling that he had missed something. He turned to look at Harry, who was still struggling with what had just happened.

"He's not here, Harry," said the Doctor, slowly, carefully. "And I don't think he ever was. I'm sorry."

"I saw him," Harry said. "I saw him, and…"

"If I was to hazard a guess," the Doctor said, still careful with his wording, in case he set the young man off, "I would say that it was an induced visual hallucination. Probably," he added, "a telepathic one."

"Voldemort made me see Sirius," Harry said, realising the truth, and then he smacked himself in the head. "I should have realised!"

"Harry?" came Ron's voice, suddenly. "This one has your name on it."

Harry turned, too see Ron pointing at one of the glass balls. Craning his neck to see, Harry widened his eyes in surprise; it was his name. _S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter._

"What?" he said. The Doctor came up behind him, glasses on, and blinked in shock.

"Well," he said. "It's yours, I guess you should look at it."

"But," Harry said, stammering, looking at the thing with a sense of mingled dread and surprise, "how do I know it's mine?"

"It's got your name on it," the Doctor smiled. Very slowly, Harry picked up the prophecy, and then he smiled.

"Great," the Doctor grinned, then he dropped it like a mask. "We have to go; if you were lured here, then whoever did the luring is probably after that… whatever it is…"

He stopped. There, wands raised, were ten or so people, dressed in black robes and black masks, narrowed eyes visible in the slits.

"Very intelligent of you, Dr Smith," one said, his voice an R.P drawl. "At least one of your group is in touch with reality, Potter, or you really would be in trouble."

"Oh, hello," said the Doctor. "Who are you?"

"They're Death Eaters," hissed Ginny from behind him. "Voldemorts servants."

"That ones Lucius Malfoy," muttered Ron, glowering at the Death Eater who had spoken.

"Yes, quite right Weasley, you're almost as smart as your father," Lucius Malfoy said. "Mind you, that's not saying a great deal."

The Doctor, who had been grinning slightly, stopped and faced Malfoy again, and he narrowed his own eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a degree or so colder. "Apart from threatening kids, I mean."

"I'm looking for a prophecy," replied Malfoy, a sneer audible in his tone. "_That_ prophecy, specifically."

"Prophecy?" said the Doctor, slightly confused, looking at the glass balls that surrounded them.

"Yes, prophecy," Malfoy said. "This is the fabled Hall of Prophecy. That one that Potter is holding is one pertaining to…"

He stopped. "Why am I telling you this?"

"Oh, I have a very trustworthy face," the Doctor deadpanned. "Prophecy though…"

And then he burst out laughing, loudly and raucously. Malfoy stared at him. Some lunatic was laughing - that was not something he was used to on missions, and certainly not something he had expected to deal with...

"Oh my stars, that's rich," he said, barely keeping himself standing he was laughing so much. "But seriously, now," the Doctor said, still grinning, but finally calming down, "there's no accurate way to tell the future. It's shifting, ever changing, like a river. There are countless Parallels, countless different realities. The Future is never certain, Malfoy."

"That prophecy says otherwise," Malfoy said.

"And what if the prophecy says that your Master is meant to die at Harry Potters hands?" the Doctor said, thinking quickly, putting his hand in his pocket and getting the sonic screwdriver out. The Death Eaters didn't seem to notice. Malfoy looked slightly worried. "Do you reckon your Master will thank you for bringing the thing that tells of his demise?"

"It tells of nothing of the sort!" a woman snapped from Malfoys side. "He's playing for time. Kill them all!"

The Doctor turned to the kids, and said "cover your ears." Then he raised his hand, as Malfoy aimed his wand, the sonic screwdriver extended, and the Doctor pressed a button.

A horrible screeching noise filled the ears of the Death Eaters, and the Doctor and the others escaped during the confusion, the Doctor bellowing "RUN!" at the top of his voice.

"Find them!" screamed Malfoy, infuriated beyond anyone's guess. "Find them, and GET THAT PROPHECY!!!!"

--

The Doctor led them into the entrance hall. He knew exactly which door in the spinning door room to take, because he could sense the TARDIS. They ran up to it, when Professor Yana stepped out from inside it.

"Professor Yana, I was wondering where you'd gotten to," said the Doctor quickly, not even acknowledging the old man properly, which in retrospect was probably a mistake. "Now look, we've got to get out of here!"

Yana didn't move, and the Doctor looked at him – _really_ looked at him. Harry, too, was staring at Yana; it was like when he saw the Doctor transform into different people. He saw a man with a goatee, in a dark suit, and another man in a leather coat...

"Doctor, that's not Yana," said Harry, but the Doctor had never needed someone to tell him something less.

"Hello," he said. "Long time, no see."

"Been a bit busy," Yana smiled.

"What the heck is going on?" Ron asked, annoyed. "There are Death Eaters here! We have to leave!"

"We aren't going anywhere, Mr Weasley," Yana said, his voice hard, "not without my say so."

He clicked his fingers, and two Death Eaters stepped out of the shadows; Mulciber and Dolohov. The Doctor took a step back, but Yana held up a hand.

"They aren't for you, Doctor," he smiled. "They're for your little human pets. Kill the children."

The Death Eaters moved, raising wands, but the Doctor was faster, hitting out, knocking both of the Death Eaters to the floor. Hermione was fast enough to stun one, and Harry and Ron petrified the other. Yana didn't seem to mind this setback in the slightest.

"You don't change," he said to the Doctor, almost wistfully. "All these regenerations, and you're still a goody two shoes."

"I offer the universe whatever you lack," the Doctor snapped, and Yana laughed, throwing his head back.

"My own words used against me…" he said. "How appropriate."

Before they could continue their conversation, the Death Eaters ran into the room, and started throwing spells. The kids snapped into action, but Yana was faster, whipping something out of his pocket; it looked like the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, but it was as if someone had modified it – it was bigger and nastier looking than the Doctors device. Yana aimed it at one Death Eater, and pressed a button; a golden beam shot out and the Death Eater fell like a puppet without a string. The other Death Eaters stopped.

"You will cease this malady," Yana said. "I command it."

"Who are you to command the servants of the Dark Lord?" Malfoy demanded.

Yana raised himself to his fullest height, and smiled.

"I am the Master," he intoned. "The Master of you, the Master of this place, the Master of this world, this solar system, this galaxy, this universe, this creation… I am the Master of everything and everyone who has ever existed and will ever exist."

The Death Eaters seemed struck dumb by the power that radiated from the man. The kids were awestruck, and both Neville and Ron had actually fallen to their knees. Only the Doctor seemed unaffected.

"You don't change much either," he said. "I'm tired of bandying words with you, Master. Let's end this."

"End?" the Master smiled. "This will not end Neither of us can let it."

"It will end," the Doctor promised. "Today."

And then both men raised their hands, placed them on the side of their heads, and spoke the same word at the same time.

"**Contact**."

At first, nothing happened, except for the expressions on the two men's faces. Nobody could have told whether anything was actually happening, even as the Order of the Pheonix burst in, only to find all the Death Eaters save one dead one and all the kids staring at the two men, who now seemed to be in agony, both looking inches from screaming. A blue light started glowing, spreading from their heads, and enveloping their bodies; blue lightning darted around them, occasionally darting out of the halo that surrounded them. Both seemed moments away from expiring from agony… and then the light receded, both men sweating, exhausted, drained. And then the Master walked over to the Doctor, slowly, painfully...

And hugged him.

The two men hugged like brothers fighting on opposite sides of a civil war, who'd been reunited by peace, before they finally broke out of the hug, both smiling, genuine warmth in what had been Yana's eyes for the first time since he had returned to himself.

"You should be dead," the Doctor said to the Master.

"I was never very good at doing or being what others said I was," the Master replied, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. "Is it true, about Gallifrey?"

For a moment, the Doctor looked angry. "Do you really think I would lie about that?"

The Master sighed.

"No," he said at last. "I might, but you never would."

They looked at each other for a long time, ignoring the humans who seemed to be hanging on their very words.

"What was it like?" the Master finally asked.

The Doctor glared at him.

"Just like you, to ask that question," he said. "Not whether I'm alright, not whether I need help, not an offer to come with me… no, you have to have the gory details."

"Of course," the Master smiled. "You forget – I have wanted, so much, to be the one who shook up the Time Lords precious perfect cosmos; and yet – _you_ are the one who brought that perfect world crashing down."

"That perfect world never existed," the Doctor said heavily – he hated admitting it, but it was true. The Master seemed about to say something else, when he saw the humans crowded around them.

"We seem to have attracted an audience," he said. The Doctor blinked and looked at Harry, Ron and the rest, and he smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "Anyway."

The Master took a step back, and suddenly, he was enveloped in green light, and thrown backwards into the TARDIS. The Doctor blinked in shock at the sight of the Avada Kedavra in action, and turned to look at the place it had originated. All of the people in the room had taken a step back, even his own followers; for Lord Voldemort, snake eyes, snake face, billowing black robes, had stepped into the room, staring around. Then he spoke, and asked one question in a soft voice.

"Where's the prophecy?"


	10. The Master Reborn

The Master was dead. That was the only thought that permeated the Doctors mind, breaking through every reserve of control he had. He blinked once, and Lord Voldemort looked at him.

"I'll repeat the question," he said, snarling. "Where is the prophecy?!"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor replied, slowly, deliberately, looking at Voldemort with cold dead eyes that seemed to have the weight of millenia in them.

"I don't care who you are..." Voldemort began, but the Doctor cut him off.

"I am a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. I am over nine hundred years old." He fixed his eyes on Voldemort's, and smiled. "And I'm going to destroy you."

Voldemort looked at him, as if trying to decide whether to laugh, but the Doctor didn't care about the laughter of a stupid _ape_…

And then he blinked once, and smiled.

"Actually," he said, "I'm _not_ going to kill you."

"Oh, really," Voldemort said, condescension dripping from his voice.

"No, I'm not," the Doctor smiled. "He is."

He stepped back, and allowed Voldemort to see the man stepping out of the TARDIS; gasping in pain, pale, but determined. There was a massive gash in his face; remnants of the failure of the curse. And then he smiled.

"I am the Master…" he said, slowly. "Reborn."

And then he threw his hands out, his head up, and a burning energy burst out, flying out of his cuffs, his frock coat waving a little. The Doctor closed his eyes. Voldemort looked at the spectacle in a mixture of shock and amazement. And then, the energy died down, and the Master blinked. There were gasps from the audience – lets face it, the Doctor thought, that's what they are, now. He was younger, now, and his eyes were brown, as was his hair, and he looked up at the Doctor and winked, before looking at Voldemort with a mixture of disdain and disgust.

"Hello, I'm the Master," he said. "Ooh, new voice. Hello," he said, deep. "Hello," again, this time lightly, and then he looked at Voldemort again. "Hello. I'm the bloke you've just tried to kill. Hope you enjoyed life, 'cos it's about to end!"

Voldemort stared at him in amazement.

"What magic is this? How can you survive the Avada Kedavra?" he asks, his confusion evident. The Doctor and the humans were now staring at the two evil beings, the Doctor not even sure which one was the one he wanted to win; obviously, he still grudgingly respected the Master, but he _was_ evil, still.

"I'm a Time Lord," the Master told Voldemort. "Death is an irritation at worst for us."

The Doctor smiled. The Master was being lyrical, as usual. Voldemortblinked, then snarled, and aimed his wand at the Master.

"Don't try that spell again," the Master said, sounding bored as hell. "It won't even make me regenerate if you hit me again."

"What are you...?" Voldemort hissed. The Master blinked at him, and locked eyes with him, and smiled.

"Let me show you."

He ran forward before Voldemort could stop him, and grabbed his head, staring deep into his eyes. The Doctor knew what he was doing as soon as he had spoken; he was going to show his soul to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's eyes widened, and then, to the shock of every person there, he stepped back, face marble white, sweating, shaken.

"Oh my..." he said, before Disapparating. The Master laughed, and turned to the Doctor with a grin.

"These humans have no imagination," he said. "I show him a _little_ power, and he runs off. Really."

"Who are you?" came a young mans voice, suddenly. Harry Potter was staring at the Master with wide eyes, shocked. "The Doctor was fighting Yana, then he was hugging him, then he died, then he stood up, and your here, and Voldemort's gone, and now I'm all confused..."

"I am the Master. You do not need to know any more then that," the Master said, then he turned to everyone else, and spoke in a commanding voice. "I'm afraid to say, me and the Doctor have unfinished business!" he called out. "Would you all go away, somewhere?"

Every single person in the room, from Albus Dumbledore to Sirius Black to Bellatrix Lestrange to Lucius Malfoy widened their eyes, and walked out in a daze.

"So now what?" the Doctor asked the Master as soon as everyone had gone. "Are we friends or foes?"

"Foes, like we've always been Doctor," the Master replied, "but neither ever ending the other. A war across the stars, 'til the end of time, or the end of you. Whichever comes first."

"What about the end of you?" the Doctor asked wryly.

"Nah," the Master laughed. "The whole universe knows I'm indestructible."

He pulled his screwdriver out of his pocket, and held it up for the Doctor's examination. "Laser screwdriver," he said. "Compared to this baby, who'd take sonic? I built after I was restored, found a spare sonic in your ship."

"Why didn't you just take my ship?" the Doctor asked. "You could have."

"Because mine is still around," the Master grinned. He held up his screwdriver, He presses a button, and a gold statue of - himself, appeared next to him with a wheezing groaning.

"Who resurrected you?" the Doctor asked, the question brought to his lips before he could stop it.

"That tale will have to wait," the MAster smiled at him. "I have a date with the universe."

Then he ran into his ship, and it vanished with the same trumpeting noise.

The Doctor sighed. It was over. _I've done what I needed to do. The TARDIS couldn't stand me being alone, so it brought me to where he was going to be, to await the_ other _last Time Lord._

He looked briefly at the door through which the others had gone. There was a bit of commotion happening, but this was the end for him. He had finished his task.

"Goodbye," he said, and then he walked into the police box,and it vanished.

--

About half an hour later, when the Death Eaters had either been captured or had escaped, qand Albus Dumbledore ws busy getting Sirius Black off of the hook as it were, Harry, Ron and Hermione came looking for the Doctor and the man who had been Yana. Both were gone. Hermione looked around, almost as if shocked, and it was with a quiver in her voice that she spoke at last.

"He never even said goodbye..."

--

When Harry, Ron and Hermione heard the sound outside, they ran, straight for it. They had heard it only once before, but that once was enough to etch it in memory forever... and they simply had to see him again. Because the Doctor was back.

The TARDIS was standing right there, by Hagrids hut. And so was the Doctor, grinning, hands in pockets, blue suit, coat...

"Hello!" he called when they were close enough to hear him. "I thought you'd never get here!"

"Hello," said Harry, grinning, as he sloed to a halt.

"Hi, mate," said Ron.

"Hi," said Hermione, breathlessly.

The Doctor smiled at them. "Well, I thought I'd pop back for three reasons," he said grandly, bowing to each of them in turn. "Firstly, Mr Potter!"

He threw Harry a tin whistle, which the yooung seeker caught deftly. Harry looked at it, then up at the Doctor in puzzlement.

"That is a Stattenheim Summoner," said the Doctor, his voice going posh in an effort to make the tin whistle seem more grandiose (a wildly transparent attempt that failed upon it's embarkation). "When you blow on that, the TARDIS will be drawn to your point in time and space. If ever you need me, just whistle."

He smiled, then turned to Ron.

"Mr Weasley!" he yelled, his voice back to normal. "A present for the next time Draco Malfoy gets out of hand."

He threw him a box, which Ron fumbled slightly. Harry grimaced; Ron's performance as a Keeper was still not the best.

"Azurian mark 2299 stink bombs," the Doctor said, smiling. "That will lock on to the target and spray him with the most unbelievable smell you can imagine, which will only affect him. I already primed it to Malfoy DNA so it will go off next time you see him. Good luck, and tell Snape I gave it to you if he catches you."

He shuddered slightly. He didn't like Snape at all; he was rude and unpleasant to know. And then he turned to Hermione, and gifted her with the biggest grin yet.

"And you, Miss Granger," he said softly. "The only one who didn't laugh when I said I'd been outside the solar system. The one who twigged I wasn't a wizard. The only person who didn't boggle at the TARDIS. I have something special for you."

He drew a breath, as if steeling himself.

"D'you want to come with us?" he asked quickly.

Hermione latched onto the last bit first, which was typical of her, and indeed of the British, really.

"'Us'?" she asked.

"Yeah," the Doctor nodded inside, and then, to all their shock, the Master's voice called out.

"Hello, apes!" he yelled. "I'm not here out of choice, before you even start."

The others turned a questioning look to the Doctor, who shrugged.

"Lot of water under the bridge since we met," he said. "Something to do with him becoming Prime Minister, and a heckuva lot of Spheres. An' a year that never was. Don't vote Saxon."

He grinned at them.

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question, Hermione!" he said. "Do you want to travel in the TARDIS?"

She looked at the others, who both looked suitably encouraging, if a bit jealous.

"Er, can they?" she asked. The Doctor shook his head.

"One person only," he said. "Having more than two people aboard as well as me makes everything irritating. I can have you back in ten seconds, though. Literally."

She looked at the TARDIS, then at Harry and Ron, then at the TARDIS. And then she ran inside.

"Magnificent" the Doctor exclaimed, and he shut the door on the two boys. The TARDIS's lamp lit up, and the wheezing groaning started up, and the box vanished into thin air.

"Well," Ron said.

"Blimey," Harry replied.

The two boys barely had time to register that Hermione was gone, before the TARDIS reappeared. Hermione strolled out the door, followed by the Doctor. She was wearing her uniform still, but it was slightly shorter on her now, and she wore a pair of shades and a hat with strange alien writing on it.

"Bye, Koschei!" she called inside.

"My name is the Master!" came a yell from within. The voice was still the same - he hadn't changed.

The Doctor and Hermione shared a grin, and looked at the two boys.

"Like I said," the Doctor explained, "ten seconds!"

He got back in the TARDIS, and the box dematerialised wih the usual cacophony.

"Hermione, what's going on?" asked Ron, with a befuddled look. She grinned at him; a dazzling thing that made the two boys smile.

"Daleks, Cybermen, Woman Wept, giant flies, mad dictators, New York, Cardiff and a lot of running," she said, laughing and putting an arm around each of their shoulders. Harry looked up at the sky.

"D'you think he'll ever come back?" he asked at length, still a bit confused.

"Whenever we need him," replied Hermione, pointing to the Stattenheim Summoner. "Now boys, we've a lot of catching up to do. From my perspective, I haven't seen you for six months..."

--

**For the tale of Hermione's time with the Doctor, see "Six Months In Ten Seconds, Ultimate Edition."**

**The story will continue in; "The Master Ascendant."**


End file.
